


Christmas Tidings

by Vitaliciouscreations



Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Christmas Party, Fluff, M/M, Spideynova - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitaliciouscreations/pseuds/Vitaliciouscreations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Peter," MJ pleaded, going for the sympathy pout. "You have to get a date to the Christmas Party this year. You haven't had a date in a year and a half. Come on, at least try. Please?"</p><p>"Ugh, fine," Peter sighed, looking around the cafeteria for somebody who would definitely say no.</p><p> </p><p>Christmas Party Spideynova because I was feeling festive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Tidings

**Author's Note:**

> My first addition to the Spideynova fandom, and I am happy to be here. I want to promise, more, but there are no guarantees. Though, a nice holiday fic makes me hopeful for the future. I know not many people will view this, but I hope those that do will enjoy.

God, Peter's face was burning. He just wanted to, you know, not be here. Or be literally anywhere else. Defeating super-villains, in the hospital, having his head explode in space. He wasn't going to be picky, he just wanted out.

 

"...can't, sorry MJ," Tara said, frowning sympathetically at Peter like he hadn't just been zoning out. "My family is going to Tuscany for Christmas. No offense, Peter."

 

"None taken," Peter told her as she walked on to the cheerleaders table. eE looked to MJ. "Why are you trying to set me up again?"

 

"Sophomore year, Peter," MJ sing-songed, looking around for her next victim. "It's time you went to one holiday party with a date. You're sixteen, and you've dated once, maybe twice if you count that time in eighth grade, which I don't. Time to crawl out of your shell, nerd."

 

"I like my shell," Peter said defensively. "It's warm and safe in here, and I can hide from evil redheads who make it their life's goal to embarrass me to death."

 

MJ reached across the table to lightly punch his arm. "Oh shut up. I just want you to be happy, Pete, and if nothing else, you can at least shut Harry and I up with it for a little while." She spotted someone behind Peter and her face lit up. "Oh, I know, you can ask Ava!"

 

"No!" Peter protested, giving MJ an offended look. "Are you kidding me?"

 

MJ hummed, considering. "Yeah, you're right, Sam's more your speed. Plus all that romantic tension you have built up coming out in those snarky comments."

 

"What?!" Peter practically yelled at her. "I'd rather go with Ava!" At MJ's triumphant smile, he continued, "Which isn't to say I'm agreeing to anything."

 

MJ frowned emphatically at him. "Peter you have to ask somebody!" She looked behind him. "Guys, side with me on this one."

 

Sam sat down next to MJ with Danny. "What are we siding with you on?"

 

Ava and Luke slid in on either side of Peter, and MJ gave them a 1000 watt smile. "Peter has to ask a date to Harry's holiday party, right? He's been single since the beginning of freshman year, ever since that Gwen girl moved away..."

 

"Gwen?" Sam asked, a doubtful expression on his face. "Dude, how did Parker manage to score a girlfriend? What, did she have horrible acne and bad teeth or something?"

 

Peter glared at Sam from across the table, half hoping to burn a hole through his skull. "You've actually seen her picture before, in my room, on my desk. She was a heck of a lot prettier than you'll ever date."

 

"Hey!" Sam protested, crossing his arms and looking away, a strange flush creeping down his neck. "I've had plenty of hot dates."

 

"With the asphalt, maybe," Peter rebuffed, and Sam narrowed his eyes at him.

 

"....Aaaaanyway," MJ butted back in. "Peter's been single for, like, ever, and  _I_  think he needs to ask somebody to Harry's holiday party, right?"

 

Luke shrugged, jostling Peter a little with his shoulder. "I don't think it would hurt you to get a little action, man. Plus, I'm taking a date. And Ava and Danny are going together. It's just you and Sam alone."

 

"I, too, agree that you could benefit from a little romantic attention," Danny intoned, nodding sagely. Peter groaned and pressed his forehead against the table.

 

"You're not helping," he grumbled out of the side of his mouth while MJ danced triumphantly in her seat.

 

"Not my problem," Ava quipped over her calculus homework. "But, for the record, I think MJ's right. You could do with a little less chemistry, and a little more  _chemistry._ "

 

Nobody bothered to dignify that pun with a response, but Ava was immersed enough in her homework so that she didn't notice.

 

"At least try, Pete," MJ pleaded, her green eyes widening with intent to kill, pity-pout style.

 

Peter sighed dramatically. "Ugh, fine." He looked around the cafeteria for somebody who he was sure would say no. When his eyes landed on Carrie Thompson, co-captain of the girls' volleyball team, he knew he had a winner. He got up and walked over to where her and her friends were discussing different ways to braid your hair so it stayed up.

 

"Uhm, hey, Carrie," Peter stepped in when the conversation paused. "I didn't mean to interrupt," but he totally did, because being rude decreased the chances of her saying yes, "but I was wondering if you'd want to go to Harry Ozborn's holiday party with me Friday?"

 

A beat passed, and Peter felt secure in his reassurance that she would say no, but then she beamed brightly at him. "Yeah, sure, pick me up at six? I'll text you my address."

 

Oh, god, he was so screwed.

 

***

 

Aunt May was so happy that he'd found a date that she let him borrow the car without one single promise to drive safely, even though he'd only barely gotten his license, like, five months ago, and hadn't driven anything except the Spidey Cycle, well, ever. Traffic was even worse than he imagined, practically at a standstill, so he was really glad Aunt May had made him leave early, so he got to Carrie's house at 6:04, close enough so that it actually looked like he knew what he was doing.

 

Both of her mothers were very intimidating, no joke, but they were nice while being intimidating. Carrie came down in a blue dress with white tights and black boots, looking very stylish with her blonde hair down around her shoulders, a surprising change from when it was normally always up.

 

"You look...great," Peter complimented, and he was telling the absolute truth. "I-I mean, I normally just see you with your hair up, but it looks nice down."

 

"Thanks," Carrie said, beaming at him. "You clean up pretty nice, Parker. I had some doubts, but you look pretty snazzy."

 

Peter felt his cheeks heat. "I, uh, thanks."

 

Carrie giggled. "You're welcome. Shall we go?"

 

Turns out Carrie liked smooth jazz, but at least Peter wasn't under pressure to find something to talk about in the car, because put under enough pressure he was bound to blurt out that he didn't actually like her as anything more than a friend, probably distant with the way his friendly relationships had been going lately, and that he also thought he might abandon her to go sulk in the bathroom halfway through the party.

 

"I might abandon you to go hide in a dark corner halfway through the party," Peter blurted, before he could stop himself. He thanked his lucky graces that Carrie laughed softly at this.

 

"Yeah, I didn't exactly expect you to be a social butterfly, Parker," she told him, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "I'm really astonished you even asked me, though flattered, and to be completely honest, I'm kind of using you to make a girl jealous. Not to come off wrong, like I wouldn't have said yes anyway, because you're pretty cool, but I'm not actually interested in dating you. I'm kinda homosexual."

 

"Oh," Peter said blankly. "I, uhm, okay."

 

Carrie turned, her eyes narrowing. "Problem?"

 

"No! No!," Peter reassured her. "I mean, I'm bi, so, yeah, no problem there, I don't think. I just, well, I wanted to ask which girl, but that's not my business, and I can't think of anything else to say."

 

Carrie's expression turned light again. "Oh, well that's pretty sweet. You're decent, Parker."

 

He thought he should say thank you, but he wasn't entirely sure, so he just gave her a small smile and a nod and focused on not crashing and dying.

 

Thankfully, Carrie's house wasn't too far from Harry's mansion, so they got there at around 6:45, give or take a few minutes. Carrie and him wandered around just enough for the girl Carrie was trying to make jealous, Rebecca, and Peter's friends to see them, before Peter left Carrie to Rebecca and dodged him way around groups of people idly chatting to get to a dark corner, as promised.

 

He lurked for around five minutes, considering the risk of MJ looking for him mid-party versus the happiness brought my abandoning ship now, when a familiar face came into his vision.

 

Sam scowled. "What are you doing here, Parker. I thought you had a date. Shouldn't you be dancing or talking or whatever?"

 

"Oh," Peter fake-pouted at Sam. "Are you bitter because you couldn't score a date while I got one the first try, when I was trying to get rejected?"

 

"Shut up, loser," Sam growled, sitting in one of the two chairs in the corner, but scooting his so he was facing away from Peter. "Quit bragging."

 

"Soh-rry," Peter dragged out, sitting down as well and scooting his chair so he was back to back with Sam, more or less, so he didn't have to see him. "I didn't mean to rub it in your face. What, did MJ reject you?"

 

"I didn't ask MJ," Sam replied testily. "There's only one person I'm interested in, and they got a date." He went silent as he realized what he had said, and both he and Peter realized that this would be the perfect opportunity for Peter to make a crushing comment to make up for all the ones Peter had let slide when he was trying to be the bigger person. Peter kept his mouth shut, tapping his fingers against his knee in a rhythmic pattern.

 

They sat in silence for at least three minutes, a new record for Sam, before Peter's acquaintance mumbled a faint, "Thanks."

 

"Yeah, yeah," Peter grumbled. "Tell your friends. You may win the date contest anyway, because turns out I asked out a gay girl. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, but I'm not female, and therefore not of the same gender, which means, you know. Train wreck."

 

A little more silence, and the song switched to a slower Christmas Jingle. "W'nna d'nc'?" Sam mumbled, and Peter blinked.

 

"What?" he asked, maybe a little incredulously, and Sam turned back to face away from him again.

 

"Never mind," the shorter boy said, crossing his arms. "I just...you know what, whatever."

 

"No!" Peter interjected, suddenly feeling really against hurting Sam's feelings, which was a pretty alarming change of pace. "I mean, I just didn't hear you well, and I was a little surprised. If the question was you asking me to dance, well, then, yeah, sure. Come on." Peter held his hand out, feeling insurmountably silly, and he could see Sam blushing a little before tentatively reaching out, but then withdrawing his hand and brushing past Peter.

 

"Whatever," Sam mumbled under his breath. "I don't need pity."

 

Peter stood dumbstruck for a moment while Sam strode out of the party, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened, before glancing around at all the couples slow dancing, and suddenly getting hit with the realization like a brick to the face. A blush crept up his own neck, his face growing hot, but he felt strangely warm to the idea, and his stomach started tingling in a way it hadn't since the beginning of freshman year.

 

Oh.  _Oh no._  


***

 

He left before the party was even halfway over with, promising Ava she could use the car to drive Danny, herself, and Luke home, before discreetly leaping off the balcony and using the web shooters he'd concealed under his undershirt to web-sling his way home. Since it was so late, and on Christmas, only a few New Yorkers were looking up, and thankfully he whooshed by fast enough so that they didn't get a good look. Not that they would be able to see his face anyway, but reports of Spiderman in a dress suit mights be some pretty strange news.

 

He climbed through his bedroom window with the ease of somebody who'd done it a hundred times before, in far worse condition that the one he was currently in. To his surprise, Sam has already in his bedroom, viciously destroying aliens on his handheld gaming system, completely ignoring Peter's entrance.

 

"Does Aunt May know you're already home?" Peter asked, but there was no response, besides Sam bashing the buttons a little harder. Peter sighed and asked louder, but Sam determinedly stared at the pixilated face-suckers, completely ignoring Peter.

 

"Okay, you're not the only one in this room!" Peter nearly shouted. "And you weren't the only one at that party, okay?! I'm sorry, we had a misunderstanding-"

 

The game console caught on fire, and Sam furiously threw it so the ground and stomped on it before Peter's rug could catch fire as well. Peter stared in alarm, vaguely worried, but it seemed that Sam was unburned, but now even more pissed off.

 

"'Misunderstanding'?" Sam's tone was biting, and se to kill. "Yeah, sure, if that's what you want to call it. Okay, I totally made a fool out of myself, and you let me because you are a huge asshole, and I-"

 

"I don't even know what's going on!" Peter protested, glaring right back at Sam. "You asked me to dance. I said yes. What is the complication here?"

 

"You're such an idiot!" Sam screamed. "Ugh, you're so-"

 

" _I'm_  the idiot?" Peter asked, offended. "What, so you're allowed to make a move on me, but I'm not allowed to say yes? Are you getting mad at me for liking you? Is that it? Because yeah, I  _am_  an idiot for liking you, and I didn't even realize that I liked you until you asked me to dance, but obviously I liked you before then because..." Peter trailed off as Sam sagged to the bed, pressing his face into the pillow. "What are you doing?"

 

"Y' l'ke m'," Sam muttered into the pillow.

 

"I literally just said that," Peter confirmed. "And yeah, I get that you apparently have a problem with that-"

 

"I don't have a problem with that!" Sam interrupted, nearly shouting in Peter's face. "I've liked you for a while now, you stupid Web-Head, but I didn't know you actually would like me back."

 

"If you like me why the hell did you say no to me saying yes when  _you_  asked me to dance?" Peter asked, now that Sam was calm feeling safe to let his own anger surface.

 

"Because I thought you were kidding!" Sam yelled. "God, I hate everything! You like girls," he motioned to the framed picture of Gwen Stacy on Peter's desk. "Apparently blonde girls with perfect complexions and shiny white teeth. I didn't think you were going to want to dance with me."

 

"Neither did I!" Peter shouted back, though suddenly all his anger had left him. "I-I just found out when you asked me, and then you said no-"

 

"Because I didn't think you meant it,!" Sam interjected.

 

"Yeah, okay, you said no because you didn't think I actually meant yes, whatever, but then I had to web-sling all the way back here in this suit jacket, which does not have flexible seams, and then my rug just nearly caught on fire, and we need a new gaming console, and I still haven't gotten that dance, which I'm still weirdly attached to." Peter was breathing hard by the end of the rant, and blushing just as much.

 

Sam blinked, his eyebrows crinkling together. "You still want that dance? I thought..."

 

"Whatever you thought, you thought wrong," Peter said abruptly. "I've got some Christmas music in my iTunes library, anf if you say no a second time, I'm going to be pissed off."


End file.
